"A worried mother does better research than the FBI." Well, what happens when this same worried mother applies to be a FBI special agent? Where have I been?As my readers may know, I took a seven month hiatus from writing, @stayinbedmomblog Instagramming, and everything short of parenting. And what did I do during this time?... Continue Reading →
I used to hate my Caesarean section scar with its puffy, jagged line. It looked like an impassive, straight-faced smile, not knowing how to feel about motherhood. At first I was scared to touch it, let alone look at it. It smarted, itching like crazy for over a year. I kept a tube of hydrocortisone... Continue Reading →
My skin is a canvas. The stretch marks on my hips look like broad brushstrokes -expressive, bold, and heavy-handed. Mother Nature is a fabulous Fauve, energetically and impulsively painting my body with vivid and repetitive lines. The once vibrant purple-y pink marks have now faded to a translucent, silvery gray. "Things happen that leave a... Continue Reading →
